Robinson Crusoe on MarsI was asked by a couple of people (my dad included) about the proposed "suicide mission to Mars," and what that was all about. Sheepishly, I had to admit that I wasn't current on that news front, and had to do a bit of googling to catch up.
The idea of a one-way, one-astronaut mission to Mars isn't brand new, even in the non-sci-fi world of real space exploration chatter, but it has recently resurfaced in the news. In a nutshell, the reason for the idea of a hop to, but not back from, Mars is a mixture of cost and technical feasibility—that the biggest hurdle in setting humans down on Mars is not the act of doing so, but the conventional returning of the astronauts to Earth.
Technical feasibility and cost and long lists of volunteers potentially interested in being the first person on Mars aside, my thoughts focused in on one main aspect of such a venture: the solitary soul to make the trip. Even if they knew what they were getting into, went through months, or years, of psychological training and conditioning, and said all their goodbyes—can you imagine the life they would be committing to?
Forget about the "normal" risks of space travel; I'm thinking about the fact of absolute planetary solitude, possibly for the rest of one's life. There would be no guarantees that other humans would follow in later missions—even cheap space programs get cancelled. The only guarantee is that you'd never leave Mars.